Rogue: The Rejected
by Kate McKenthy
Summary: '"Katniss Everdeen is a sin! She is nothing but a mistake brought upon this community!" An outcast in her city - Katniss would do anything to not be alone anymore. With the end of civilization approaching, the superior race members are selected to be saved. The rest, however, the Rejects, are left for the End of Days.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! Don't worry - I haven't forgot my other story. I was just struck with some inspiration today! This story is called Rogue. Originally, I started the story with different Characters and Setting, but to get it read, I changed the names and places to fit the fanfiction world.

Originally, it's about a girl named Anja Malika, a sixteen year old, mutant girl growing up under the care of her deaf and mute much older brother, Atieno or 'Ati.' Her father died long ago and her mother fell into a catatonic state right after she was born due to unknown reasons and resides in the city's mental institution. The story takes place in our present day Egypt, but is referred to as Missionary. The Missionary is a massive city ruled under a man named Nathan Mays, the man who claims to be God, and his family.

Anja is a mutant because she has the ability to manipulate the four elements as she pleases, and on rare occasions - the weak minded. And after possessing and almost accidentally killing one of the Mays daughters, she and her brother are banished to the outskirts of the Missionary - only allowed to come in for educational purposes and special occasions (school, holidays, mother visits, etc) The citizens view her as a sin and a mistake of nature - they believe her to be a demon.

One day, the Prophets of the Missionary foresee the complete destruction of the Missionary by a pack of savage, face-less creatures, and begin planning their escape to the Promise Land (United States/Canada)

Nathan, however, decides that this move brings up the perfect time for a rebirth of the Missionary, or a _Cleansing_.

Only the highest of the human race will be accepted and saved.

This is the story of how Anja and her family try to survive.

* * *

I fall to my knees, whimpering in frustration at the shallow end of the river. _I almost had it_. Another catfish just slipped out of my hands for the who-knows-how-manyth time in the last forty-five minutes. I can't take anymore. I put my head in my hands and cry a little. The hunger is so bad. My bones feel so weak and my stomach growls at me. I want to scream at it. _"I know! I know! There's no food! Just leave me be!" _

But my stomach is right to be rumbling. I haven't had food in almost three days. I'm not sure how much I have left in me. The walk home is long and the sun has almost set, casting that pretty shade of pink and orange over the sky. I flop back onto the sand and shut my eyes, wondering if today is the day I die. I've never felt so weak, so worthless - so helpless.

I feel something brush the hair off of my forehead and I allow my eyes to flutter open. My gaze connects face to face with a dark man with Onyx eyes.

Gale.

"Gale," I croak. _"I couldn't catch anything. I'm so sorry -"_ He holds up his right hand to halt my apologies, and then uses his left to help me up. His mouth lifts in a small grin, releasing me and then points to the water. _"Yeah, go ahead a take a swing at it. I give up."_ I sign. His eyebrow raises, and then he shakes his head, understanding. He makes a pushing motion with one arm while splashing water at me with the other.

Oh.

_"You're okay with that?" _He nods his head and grins, flashing me a string of pearly white teeth.

I let out a deep breath and shake out my limbs.

Focus.

I let my eyes shut, feeling the tingling spread of electricity crawl up my arms. I lift my hands, the sizzling intensifying. Allowing myself to peek, I fling my arms up and out, watching as half of the lake water is shot into the air. A flood of falling catfish find their way to the river bank and flop around drowning in the stale breeze.

A burst of noise falls from Gale's lips at the same time one does from mine.

_Food._

We both leap at the fresh meal. Gale makes quick work of gathering the slowly dying fish and collecting it in his basket as I lay my hand on them and fry them inside-out. Once I know the fish is completely cooked through, I plop on the ground and pull out my hunting knife to begin slicing away at the scales, smiling to myself. I hardly have the patience to not bite through the rubbery skin.

Gale takes a spot next to me, observing me quietly as he always has.

You may be thinking – "Wow, Gale isn't much for conversation, is he?" Well, yeah. He can't hear. There's never been a time I can think of when he _could_. It's always been just me and him. My mom's a living corpse taking residence at the Community's asylum. I've never heard her voice even though I've visited her every week since I was a little girl. And since I had no one to talk to, I didn't speak until I got to school. I had no need to – I communicated with Gale using my hands, and that's all I ever needed.

When we walk through town, people assume I'm his child rather than his sister. He told me that he was seventeen when I was born – a considerable age difference for most siblings. But it apparently was very difficult for my mother to conceive – and it was merely an accident that I happened. Unfortunately, my father died a week before she discovered she was with child. He never even knew I existed.

It took a toll on my mother, to say the least.

Gale became my sole care-taker when he was only a teenager. I feel guilty sometimes about burdening him with my needs and my..._problems_. He's relentlessly harassed about it by townspeople the few times we actually are allowed to go into the city. They ask him cruelly in front me what it's like to have a sin for a sister and if he's finally sending me back to the Hell from which I came, but he simply smiles at them and walks it off. He seems completely fine with it – but I'm pretty sure that's only because he can't hear or read lips. The _townspeople _don't know that he can't read lips, and it keeps things less hostile.

You see... I'm not like everyone else in my town.

Girls, of course, all have enemies in high school, but I have a certain brand of enemy. Typical foes simply call the girls mean things behind their back and start rumors – but mine throw Holy Water at me and try to get me to expel my evil demon spirit out of the human body I have.

I can sort of understand where they are coming from through – I'd be a little apprehensive of a girl I didn't know that didn't talk, that had the ability to control everything around her...sometimes including _people_.

It's only happened once, but boy, was it scary. It was a freezing February and I was walking to my home on the outskirts of the city (they banned Gale and I from living in city limits because of my..._gifts. _They said I was a hazard to public property and other citizens. I'm only allowed in for school and special occasion.) The Chief Prophet's daughter, Clover Snow, thought it would be hilarious if she were to dump a freezing bucket of holy water on me.

It was so cold that half of the water was already sleet. I can't remember too much from that point on – only little blurs. My mind was so clouded with hatred that I went into Pilot Mode and set the Apothecary's dumpster on fire with a flick of the wrist. Then, without even thinking about it, I was suddenly inside the mind of Clover Snow and guiding her towards the fire. If it hadn't been for Clover's sisters Glenda and Madge, I probably would've killed her.

I don't think I meant to...I just couldn't control myself and my emotions got the best of me.

From that day on, Gale took me out into the desert everyday and taught me to control my emotions and use self-discipline. Sometimes I would simply try catching catfish with my bare hands or bury objects in the sand, only to retrieve those days later – _without _using my powers. That was the hardest part.

I feel like they helped in the long run. For the most part, I live like a normal person.

I hand over the catfish I just finished de-scaling to Gale so he can eat before I start filleting mine. He smiles widely and hastily sinks his teeth into the meat with a juicy sounding crunch. He groans at the taste and signs a _thank you _to me. I nod in reply. I shed the fish much sloppier than the first because I'm just so dang hungry I can't wait anymore. The chomp I take out of mine could put Gale's man bite to shame. He notices and lets out a warm laughter – a sound I haven't heard in _months_.

We sit in silence for a while longer before the violet sky alerts us we need to head home. Gale picks up his basket and I, my knife and we start off on the long journey home, but then Gale stills, putting a hand on my shoulder. He lifts a single finger – telling me to _wait_.

He scurries down the gradual slope of the river bank and heavily frolics around a pink lotus patch until his face lights up with recognition. He bends over, plucking one from the ground and rushing back to me to present it right in front of my face.

It's a lotus – but a grayish blue color, like the color of my eyes. The color that lets all Onyx-eyed citizens of District 12 know that I, Katniss Everdeen, am a mutant.

Smiling sadly, I bow my head to hide it and thank him.

He taps my chin up with his finger like I used to watch the fathers in town do with their children when they were pouting.

He shows me another comforting smile and signs to me, _"Just because something is different doesn't mean it isn't beautiful."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone! I'm having a lot of fun with this story! So, that is why this is updated so quickly. There's a lot of plot with this, so I'm trying to move it along. If you're looking for romance, you've got a ways to go...It'll happen eventually, but not now. Meh :P Sorry.**

**But here is Chapter 2! Enjoy!**

I feel the sun bake the back of eyes, the insides turning a violent shade of raw red. Gale always worries about me frying myself like a fish, being the fairest skinned girl to ever set foot in District 12 and all – (Well, aside from ashen faced Snow family), but I tend to ignore his warnings as I do most things these days.

Lying in the sun is one of the only things that bring me happiness. When I lie here, I can fall asleep or day dream or simply pretend that I'm not alone and that while my eyes are closed, someone is asleep next to me. But then I open my eyes – and no one is there. Gale doesn't like lying around – he always says there is work to be done, though I'm not sure what 'work' he is referring to. There isn't much to do out here. It might be different if we lived in town. I know there's a picture building where they recycle footage from the Worship seminar of the previous week. I went once. It was the only time I've ever seen Worship. Gale snuck me into one for ten minutes. I don't remember much, only that there was a lot of screaming and a lot spit coming from Snow's mouth as he waved around a thick, black book with a hand print on it. But I'd only heard half of the intro to the service when Madge caught me and shooed us out.

And there's a parlor where they serve this white stuff called ice cream. I've never tasted it, but I've seen the looks on other kids' faces when they bite into it – sometimes they groan like it's the best darn thing they've ever eaten.

And maybe it is. I wouldn't know.

But as for now, I'm enjoying myself. Gale goes into town on Saturday mornings for work. He comes in to reorganize the books at the massive town library since reading is the only thing that brings _him _happiness. A few years ago, after the incident a couple summers ago when we almost starved, Gale made a deal with Maysilee, the librarian. He trades catfish for books or fabrics or whatever else we need that week. Most of the time, though – it's books.

Then on Sundays, Gale comes home just so he can walk me back into town. Aside from school, I'm not allowed into the city. I'm not even allowed into Worship, the one place where basically everyone is required to go. But, of course, it's _they're _own choice to attend, but everyone loves it so much, they don't have to choose.

The people of District 12 would _never _allow a disgrace such as me in such close proximity to their precious sanctuary of holiness. They're scared that I'll break something in the church with my 'talents.' So while they're all shut in for service, I visit my mother.

Since that summer, Gale has been much more lenient on the usage of my abilities. He only gets made when I burn things or freeze our gardens...or get a little carried away making weeds. In my opinion, the vines on the side of our house give it some character. And by side, I might mean everywhere.

Gale takes it in stride though. He's never showed any distaste for my gifts like the District has. Unless I break something; otherwise, he seems kind of..._proud_. I always try to do right with my powers – when I'm not completely focused and calm though, it can be hard. The accident with Clover proved that. I think he does take pleasure in his work days. They give him some peace away from me. While I loathe being stuck with myself, Gale seems to relish it. I assume it's because he was an only child for such a long time that it's a familiar feeling.

And I guess Gale's library trips aren't all for him. Yes, he does collect some fiction to read just for pure enjoyment, but he brings home some real ugly, cobwebbed ones that are old enough that if I you turn the page too quickly; they turn to dust in your hands. Those are for me. Or they're _about _me.

They aren't in my language, I can't read them. But Gale's learned enough of other languages from those books to get him by. He mostly just looks for answers. Some have turned up – not the ones he was looking for, but some that are important to me.

Like what I am.

"_Voog," he spells out. "This might be it, Catnip. It is Afrikaans for guardian, I think." He pauses, eyes scanning the page. "Or maybe it's spiritual. I can't tell. These pages are so faded."_

_I nosily peek over his shoulder at our kitchen table, trying to read the words in front of him. The entire passage is in old Afrikaans so I can't make out a phrase. I plop myself down in a chair next to where he stands, watching him read, exasperated. _

"_Does it matter, Gale?" I ask him. "I'm a freak of nature. So what?"_

_He narrows his eyes at me. "I don't care what you are. I care about what you can do and how to control it. I don't want another episode like that one with the Snow girl. We don't need that kind of attention drawn to you."_

_I huff and slink further into my chair. I hated these kinds of evenings - The ones in the summer where there is nothing to do but be bored. School, while hell, at least gives me something to focus on besides loneliness or boredom. Without the daily trip into town, I have nothing better to do than stare at Gale read books. Sometimes he reads to me when it's a funny or charming story, but when he's in the zone, learning or reading something challenging, it's dead air unless something really sparks his interest. Then he will share it with me, either by making obnoxiously loud noises or pinching me._

_He snaps his fingers as me directly in front of my unfocused eyes, trying to get my attention._

"_It says here Voogs, during the age of Old Earth, were known commonly as 'nomads.' A nomad is a type of person who tends to drift from location to location. Some researchers predict the reason for this spontaneous traveling is the Voogs' need for a source of consistent love and comfort, as the Voog is a very lonely creature." He smirks knowingly, sadness touching his features. "You aren't going to leave me, are you?"_

_My eyebrows knit together, "Where would I go, Gale?"_

_This puts him at ease. His shoulders sag. "Just checking." He turns the page, eyes dancing quickly over the text and then tenses again. His eyes snap towards my face, concern wrinkling his forehead. He reaches for me and grabs my cheeks tightly with one of his hands, harshly yanking me back and forth, glaring into my eyes in a studious way._

_I slap at his arms trying to get him off of me. He releases my face and grabs my shoulder._

"_What's the matter with you?" I yell verbally._

_I know he knows what I asked him, but he ignores me anyway. "Are you feeling particularly hungry for human flesh or revenge?"_

"_What? No!" I shrug him off, taking a few angry steps back. "What are you talking about?"_

_Gale pushes the dusty book in my face and points to a diagram. It's a table of different eye colors. There's minimal wording by each eye – except for the last one. A soft grayish color that is fairly close to mine. My exact shade is not on the page._

"_What does it say?"_

"_It says that eye color determines personality – something simple like kindness or wisdom. But gray eyes are animalistic and evil. They are only created to slim down the human population."_

"_I would never do that!" I scold with my hands. "I'm not like that. I have better control."_

"_Do you?"_

_I frown, anger welling up inside me so tightly that tears start to form. I shake my head and storm outside. _

_It takes time, but I walk myself over to the river where we fish and settle myself in the middle of a lotus bed. I stay there until the sun rises._

Since that day, we've discovered more.

I indeed, do _not _hunger for human flesh or revenge.

My powers, while already extraordinary for the human world, are also incredibly rare for the Spiritual world. The most common type of power is simply strength or camouflage. The ability to manipulate the elements or people is unrecorded at this time.

All Voogs are born from other Voogs. I am not. My mother and father were both fully human.

Voogs are immortal. Not that we can't die – but the cause of death will never be from old age or disease. I almost died from starvation...which, I guess, isn't really a disease, so I can't prove that that's not true.

Despite the slight variations, I am, in fact, a member of the Voog species or very close to it. I meet all the descriptions with slight exceptions.

Do to the fact that I'm unique for my species, Gale has not found anything about controlling powers. It probably has something to do with the fact that Voogs weren't frowned upon in ancient times and there wasn't a need to control themselves. We could do anything we wanted.

But now, I'm just a sixteen year old Voog girl with freaky eyes, freaky powers, and a lonely existence.

I let out a sigh, exhausted. _This _is why I hate being alone. When I lie here like this, my thoughts get the best of me. I sit and stew over things I can't change.

Suddenly the red glow behind my eyelids blows out like a candle until I'm staring into darkness. Something is blocking my sun. I open my eyes and come face to face with an upside-down Gale. His face looks tired, his small smirk is missing from its typical spot.

"_It's Sunday. Ready to go?"_

Oh yeah. It's Mom's day. Where did this week go?

I nod and Gale lifts me off the ground. We start our journey from there. It's about a thirty minute walk into town – a very quiet walk. Gale isn't his chatty self. He typically tells me in critical detail about his day at the library and I eat it up. I love hearing about his day. I relish in the way his face lights up when talking about all the things he got to read or see. Reading holds such a tight grip on his heart – I've never understood his reasoning for his fascination with it, I'm not much of reader myself. But who am I to stop him?

"_So," _I start. _"How was work?"_

He doesn't see me signing though. He's staring glassy-eyed at the sand in front of us, worlds away. I sigh. I stomp my foot into the ground on my next step and try to send him a slight shock wave through the ground to get his attention. Like usual, I under-estimate my strength and end up knocking him over with the power of my blow.

I hear can hear the gust of air being knocked out of him, followed by a groan of anger.

His dark skin is tinted red with frustration. _"What was that for?"_

"_I'm sorry,_" I sign hurriedly, blushing as I bashfully help him to his feet, ashamed. _"I just wanted to get your attention."_

His frown relaxes and he brushes the dirt from his white button down and black trousers. _"It's fine. What do you need?"_

I feel stupid now asking him. _"How was work?"_

I can see him restraining to not roll his eyes. But he doesn't. What he does hurts much worse.

"_It was fine."_

The rest of the walk is accompanied by zero conversation.

I hate the way the nurse looks at me when I visit. You'd think after sixteen years and over eight hundred visits she'd give me an ounce of respect in her stare. But she doesn't.

"We're here to see Violet Everdeen, please," I speak in my polite-adult-business voice.

"You know where she is," the nurse snaps, her focus returning back to her religious magazine. Lucy Snow's delicate frame graces the cover in a black and white glamour shot. She's holding her husband's Bible, the one with the hand print on it and doing one of those over the shoulder looks. She's beautiful – but something about her makes my skin crawl.

"Thank you," I mutter, grabbing Gale's hand and leading him away from the crass woman.

My mother is sitting the same chair she's sat in every Sunday when I visit, staring out her window towards the terrifyingly large, pristine, white Worship Hall.

"Hi Mom," I greet her. She doesn't turn towards me. Just like every Sunday.

We've built a routine – a solid, but mundane one. I come in and greet her. Talk to her about anything that pops into my mind and then I read to her from a book that Gale brought home. We stay from noon until one, so we have enough time to get home before Worship ends.

"Oh, Mom, your flower's dying again," I note, glancing towards the gray-blue lotus in the vase on her side table. "Allow me," I brush my fingers quickly along the petals, sketching some life back into the flower's posture. And you may be thinking: That isn't the same flower I think it is, is it?

And the answer is yes, yes it is.

"Now, where were we?" I ask, pulling the thousands of years old novel _A Tale of Two Cities _out of Gale's bag. I hear the sound of Mom's bed settling under his weight behind me at the same time I feel a tap on my shoulder.

He holds up the number four.

"Chapter four it is," I announce to no one in particular. I flip to the dog-earred page and begin reading. _"When the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of the forenoon, the head drawer at the Royal George Hotel opened the coach-door as his custom was." _

I feel like this is why I don't like reading. The only times I've ever done it were these occasions. Me reading aloud to people who couldn't or wouldn't listen. I'm not even sure if I like this book yet. Gale said I would in the end and I should at least _try _to get through it. But I hate the few moments when I make the mistake of glancing at my mother in between paragraphs. She never once acknowledges my presence. Her face is a blank page. Her dark skin wrinkling with time and her deep blue eyes looking more and more exhausted every week. Her once dark hair is now fading to a radiant white. She looks more and more like a corpse every day.

"_This being another question hard to answer, Mr. Jarvis Lorry withdrew to consider it." _I close the book. My voice is hoarse from the long chapter.

"Coming."

I freeze.

I glance at Mom.

"Mom?" I touch her hand. "Mom? Did you say something?"

"Coming," she murmurs, lips barely moving.

I can't stop the tears from welling at the sound of her speaking. "What? What's coming?"

"They're coming."

I touch her cheek, trying to capture her attention. "Mama, look at me!" But as soon as I finally get her to look at me, the faint spark of life that had been in her eyes is gone. No one is there.

A tear slips down my cheek. I almost had her. I almost had her.

I feel Gale's warm hand cover my shoulder and squeeze. I turn to look at him. He gives me a small smile.

"_Let's go home." _

I sniffle and lean down to kiss her head and Gale does the same. We pack the books up and head out, twenty minutes early. I bid a farewell to the nurse as we pass and she merely scoffs. Then the bells go off.

The 'Emergency Announcement' bells.

Gale and I scurry outside towards the Worship Hall; all of the citizens from inside the church are ushered outside. They mutter to one another, debating what could be the cause of an emergency announcement since Mr. Snow is typically the one behind them.

But it apparently wasn't him. Not when a red faced Mr. Snow rushes out, looking positively livid. "What's going on here? We were in the middle of service!"

A deafening silence washes over the crowd. Snow even stills, his face turning from rage to confusion.

Six white figures emerge from the balcony of the Worship Hall.

The Prophets.

There are seven prophets. They're the elders of our city. They are said to be the wisest of us all – they know _everything _that goes on. There are no decisions made without consoling the Prophets. Snow is the leader, despite his age. He weaseled his way in there. Everyone says it's because he's obviously the smartest and most knowledgeable. I just think it's because the rest of the Prophets are too calm and collected to bother fighting him.

The eldest prophetess, the one who never smiles, steps forward. Her face always seems to be traced with deep scowl lines and completely void of emotion. But today, under her tight scalp cap, she looks..._worried_.

"A prophecy has been foreseen today," she rasps strong and clear. "And I'm afraid to announce that it's...not very _nice_."

The crowd breaks into whispers.

"Silence!" Snow growls. The mob hushes into submission. "I do not believe I was informed about this. I would very much appreciate an explanation."

The Prophetess is not shaken by him. "Your assistance was not required, Mr. Snow. May you please keep silent, yourself?"

An emotion I've never seen before flashes across Snow's pale blue eyes, and for a moment, I'm scared of him. But he doesn't reply. He simply gives a disrespectful bow and crosses his arms.

"We have foreseen something terrible and unexpected. And that something is coming. Soon," she takes a deep breath. "The end of District 12 is approaching. Faceless demons will ascend from Hell and life as we know it will be altered forever. We need to take action."

Snow interrupts again. "How many days do we have?"

She swallows. "Three."

**Dun. Dun. DUUUUUUN. **

**Next chapter will be a direct continuation from the last sentence.**

**Thanks for reading! I love feedback!**


End file.
